Yule Ball with Neville
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: I wrote this quickly, because I have never actually seen a fic about Hermione going to Neville with the Yule Ball after he asks her, and more importantly, the potential for a romance to come out of that scenario. I wrote this quickly, but please enjoy it! Review if you want - I always love to hear the thoughts of my readers!
1. Chapter 1: An Enchanted Rose

**Chapter 1: An Enchanted Rose**

Neville Longbottom's brow furrowed as he concentrated on adding just the right amount of Shining Potion from the squeeze tube. As he watched the petals of the red rose glisten in exactly the way the Herbology book said they were supposed to, he grinned triumphantly. It was ready! And not a moment too soon, either.

Ever since the Yule Ball had been announced after the completion of the Second Task, Neville Longbottom had decided to gather the Gryffindor courage he knew had to be within him somewhere. Helping Harry Potter successfully navigate the Black Lake with Gillyweed had only served to boost his confidence, to finally approach the secret object of his affection and ask a question.

Neville had secretly had a crush on Hermione Granger for years. She had always helped him with the subjects he struggled in (Potions and Professor Snape being his largest hurdle by far, and Herbology the one exception). She was intelligent, the best in their fourth year. And, at the end of this summer, Neville had noticed she had blossomed into an even more attractive witch. Developed more womanly curves. He knew if he wanted her to be his date to the Yule Ball, he would have to move fast.

There was a likely very big obstacle that could move faster than he.

Viktor Krum, the Quidditch hero and Durmstrang Triwizard Champion, had conspicuously chosen Hermione as his object stolen from him and hidden at the bottom of the Black Lake. Most of the Hogwarts student body had been whispering about the pair, and the general gossip consensus was that Krum fancied Hermione - much to the disbelief of many, especially the other girls. Whether Hermione returned the sentiments was the topic up for the most intense debate. Although Krum had not asked Hermione to the ball, as far as Neville was aware, he knew it was only a matter of time.

So thinking, he took his enchanted rose with him from Professor Sprout's greenhouse and hurried up to the castle, encouraged to ask Hermione Granger to the Yule Ball by the end of the day. Even before the start of their final class.

* * *

Over a period of several days, Neville had closely watched Hermione's routine after their double Potions lesson with Professor Snape. She almost always left with Ron and Harry, going as far as the third floor of the grand staircase before peeling off to the library to study.

Neville knew this would the opportune moment, in the quiet of the maze of bookshelves, to get Hermione alone. He was being amazingly courageous to even ask her at all. To do so with the increased chance of other people watching or overhearing? He wasn't _that_ brave. And he shuddered to think about how Ron and Harry might react. They had always been very protective of Hermione, like she was a baby sister to them; they had gone after Draco Malfoy more than once to defend her honor - not every wizard had that kind of juevos.

As soon as Snape dismissed his students for the day, Neville packed up his bag, clumsily getting his satchel's zipper stuck at first in his haste. Joining the throng of fourth years a decent distance behind the Golden Trio, he followed inconspicuously, the rose hidden safely in his cloak.

At the grand staircase, he watched as Hermione bid goodbye to the boys and peeled off down the corridor towards the library. He slipped after her, trailing so as not to arouse her suspicion. By the time he entered the hall of study, she had disappeared amongst her precious books.

Heart in his throat, Neville scanned down aisle by aisle, until at last he found Hermione, in a thankfully deserted section. A table at the back corner of one reading nook, concentrating on Snape's latest essay. Taking a deep breath, one hand hidden in his cloak and on the rose, Neville strode forward. _Just do it quick, like a bandaid_ , he had heard Fred and George Weasley telling one nervous fifth year about getting a date. It seemed like good advice, especially from a normally unreliable, joking source like the Weasley twins.

"Hey, Hermione."

Hermione looked up, her face looking beautiful when framed with her bushy brown hair. "Oh, hey, Neville," she smiled. "What's up?"

"I want to ask you something!" Neville got out a little too forcefully, before his nerves failed him.

Hermione chuckled curiously, thrown by his eagerness. "OK..." she smiled in encouragement. It was probably about Snape's essay, or even how to hold up against his merciless mockery in class.

It turned out to be neither, as Hermione watched Neville pull a sparkling rose from his cloak and hold it aloft, out to her. "Wouldyouliketogototheballwithme?"

He got it out in a rush, so that the words ran together, and he even stuttered on a syllable or two. Hermione regarded him kindly.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that."

Neville breathed deeply, even as his heart hammered erratically. "What I meant to say was... would you like to go... to the Yule Ball with me?" He outstretched the rose to her a little more, and Hermione gingerly took it, gaping at him in surprise. Her one finger brushed a petal, but scarcely, as if she was afraid it might break under her touch.

Then... she smiled genuinely, truly touched. "Did you _make_ this? For _me_?"

Neville blushed and shrugged, his breathing starting to even out now that the worst was over. At least, he thought. "Yes. Just a Shimmering Potion. I stayed up all night getting it right."

Hermione beamed with pride. She knew how hard Potions was for him, even without a Snape breathing down his neck. "I'm so flattered..."

There was a but coming; he knew it and Neville steeled himself for the letting down easy. He half-expected her to say that Viktor Krum had already asked her, and that she was promised to him.

"Yes."

Neville blinked, certain he had misheard. "Yes?"

Hermione smiled softly. "Yes, Neville, I'd love to go to the Yule Ball with you!" And she actually hugged him and even gave him a warm peck on the cheek. "You were very brave to ask me. I admire your Gryffindor pluck. And the rose is glorious."

Neville felt ten feet tall, like magic was floating him with Wingardium Leviosa. "Brilliant! I'll meet you in the Great Hall on Christmas Eve."

"Plan on it," Hermione grinned, returning to her seat as she fondled the rose with genuine affection.

Neville left the library still in a daze. Only when he was in the corridor did he let out a whoop of victory.


	2. Chapter 2: Bulgarian Heartthrob

**Chapter 2: Bulgarian Heartthrob**

Hermione stood in front of her study desk in the library, still fingering the shimmering petals of the rose. Her head, oddly, was spinning. Neville, the shy boy who had always been bullied and was sometimes accident-prone, had plucked up the courage to ask her to the Yule Ball! And he had done so in a very creative way; he obviously had put a lot of time and effort into enhancing this rose for her. So far, most boys who asked a girl to the Yule Ball had simply asked the question - no more, no less. At least, from what Hermione had seen. It felt nice to be thought of, and to have been asked: up until five minutes ago, Hermione had not expected for anyone to ask her, let alone go at all. Her one hope had been if Harry or Ron would ask her to go as friends, but Harry had his heart set on asking Cho Chang. And Ron... was oblivious Ron.

Hermione had been so lost in thought that she did not hear the tall figure coming up behind her. "Vhat are you thinking about?"

Hermione nearly screamed, startled as she spun about, hiding the rose behind her back and from the view of Viktor Krum, the Triwizard competitor. "Um... hello, Viktor," she stammered nervously.

Strangely enough, Viktor seemed to be on edge himself. "If I may be so bold, I vould like to give you a proposition."

Hermione's brow crinkled in amusement. She rather liked the way he talked, his accent. In a way, it was cute. "Yes?"

"Vould you do me the honor of accompanying me to the Yule Ball?" And Viktor took Hermione's hand and kissed it.

Hermione drew a sharp intake of breath. Viktor Krum, the hero of this year's Quidditch World Cup, had just asked her to the Yule Ball! Yes, she was aware that he had noticed her, been eyeing her. And she had been surprised and flattered that she was his object of preciousness in the Second Task.

"I have been coming up to the library every day to try and talk to you, but have never been able to pluck up the courage," Krum explained, actually looking shy.

She found herself seriously considering his offer. Let all the other girls who chased after him and clearly disdained her become all tied into knots over her being a champion's date! She glanced down at her hand still in Viktor's and then shifted her eyes back to the concealed rose behind her.

 _But I'd be betraying Neville... I don't want to hurt Neville..._

Hermione made her decision. Turning back to Viktor, she smiled sympathetically. "Oh, Viktor, I feel so honored, but... somebody has already asked me, and I promised I would go with him. I'm really sorry."

Hermione hated to see the crushed look on Viktor's face. His expression made it appear that he was not used to rejection, or hearing "No" at all. He quickly regained a semblance of composure and said, "This fellow of yours is very lucky, then. Enjoy the ball, Miss..."

"Hermione," Hermione smiled.

"Hermy-own," Viktor mangled. Hermione ignored the mispronunciation as Viktor slipped away.

* * *

Safe in the knowledge that she had a date (and with the boosted confidence that she had had two men ask her to the Ball in the span of less than ten minutes), Hermione watched with amusement as Hogwarts got ready for the Yule Ball.

And as Harry and Ron grew more and more panicked to find a date.

She had to laugh quietly to herself, but nevertheless feel sorry for their bad luck, as Harry encountered a similar problem with Cho, in the way that Viktor had encountered a problem with Hermione and Neville: somebody else had beaten the Chosen One to the punch. Hermione wasn't sure, but she suspected the culprit was Cedric Diggory.

Ron, meanwhile, had impulsively asked Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons champion to the Ball, her refusal leaving him almost shell-shocked.

Now, the three friends were deep in an examination for Professor Snape. No talking was allowed - a rule that Snape enforced strictly. But after the boys watched Fred Weasley ask Angelina Johnson to the Ball via creative pantomime, Ron had had enough.

"Oi, Hermione - you're a girl," he pointed out.

"Very well spotted," Hermione took no pains to hide her annoyance at what she was sure was a clumsy way of asking -

"Come with one of us?" Ron didn't have the smooth moves of his brother, even as he tried to imitate them, which caught the notice of Snape so that he physically forced Harry and Ron's heads back towards their papers. Even so, Ron kept up the pressure. "Come on. It's one thing for a bloke to go alone. For a girl, it's just sad."

His assumption on multiple fronts sent Hermione's blood boiling, and even though she had been planning to keep her attendance a secret from her two best friends, wanting to surprise them there, she snarled out, "I won't be going alone, because, believe it or not, someone's _asked_ me!" Slamming her exam book closed, she got up and turned it into Snape. Coming back to retrieve her satchel, she hissed out as a parting shot, " _And I said_ _ **Yes**_!"

Watching Hermione exit in a huff, Ron looked visibly shaken. "Bloody hell! She's lying, right?"

"If you say so," Harry sighed with a shrug. He wasn't about to admit that, in this latest Ron-Hermione spat with him serving in the standard role of supposedly impartial referee, Hermione had won. Handidly.

Unnoticed by either of them, across the long exam table and a few seats down, Neville kept his nose hidden in his exam booklet with a grateful smile. He had heard everything - including Hermione's defense of him.


	3. Chapter 3: Let Those Apples Fall

**Chapter 3: Let Those Apples Fall**

The night of the Yule Ball finally arrived. Alone in the girls' dormitory, Hermione checked over her pink dress in the mirror. She was the last to get ready, and had waited until Lavender and the other girls had left; thankfully, they had started primping hours before and finished unfashionably early. Raising her wand, she muttered a simple charm and drew her hair up into a bun, making the strands sleek and shiny. She wanted to look as perfect as she could for Neville - after the effort he took in even asking her, it was the least she could do.

She was one of the last to arrive. Descending down the grand staircase, she was shocked to find how almost everyone in the vicinity stopped and stared at her. Even so, Hermione allowed herself to bask in the glory of it, showing her friends and teachers the new Hermione Granger.

And her esteem swelled all the more as she met Neville at the bottom, handsome in a tuxedo and gazing at her as though she was the reason stars shone.

"Hi," she smiled gently.

"You look beautiful," Neville breathed, and the simplicity of the compliment - no thrills or fuss - impressed Hermione. She waved excitedly, actually blushing, to Harry and Ron, both gaping at her and even more so at whom she was with. At least she was happy her best friends were there - as he was wont to do, Harry had scrambled at the last minute and nabbed dates for both himself and Ron: the Patil twins. Hermione had to say, Harry's ingenuity and resourcefulness never ceased to amaze her, especially when he was under pressure.

The students were let into the Great Hall, and the four champions and their partners took to the floor for the first dance. Only then did Hermione see Viktor for the first time, on the arm of a Hogwarts student whom she didn't recognize. His second choice. She felt bad for him, but a promise was a promise.

Harry led everyone off, and soon Hermione was waltzing around in Neville's arms. Her heart swelled at how happy he looked, even if he periodically looked down at his feet to make sure he didn't step on her toes. The pair danced through the first dance, then another and another... losing track of time as they got lost in conversation. Hermione was having a really good time, and she told Neville so.

"I knew that the Gillyweed had to be you; you saved Harry's hide with that one..." she praised him sincerely. Spinning about in Neville's arms, her eyes caught the gaze of Viktor Krum - a smoldering one, aimed right at the back of Neville's head. Neville noticed her distress, and tried to follow her gaze.

"Why is he...?" Hermione gently cupped Neville's cheek in her palm and forced his eyes back to her, but too late. Neville had seen. "Hermione, why is Viktor Krum looking at us like that?"

"I think he's more concentrated on you." She had to tell him the truth now - she had never intended to reveal to anyone about Krum's offer, and especially not her date. But... "He's jealous because he asked me to the Yule Ball after you did. I turned him down."

Neville swayed sharply as their waltzing came to an abrupt halt, even as the crowd continued around them. "You did _what_?" His eyes were wide.

"I had already promised you! And I truly loved how you asked me!" Hermione expressed, hoping he would not become angry at her - a reaction she would not have expected from him. Was he actually upset that she had _turned_ _down_ Krum?

"Come with me," Neville suddenly ordered, and taking Hermione's hand, he led her out of the crowd, out of the Great Hall. All the while, Hermione could hear him mutter to himself, "This doesn't make any sense..."

The pair finally entered a broom cupboard under a staircase, closing the door behind them. Neville turned on the overhead light, and turned to face Hermione.

"Let me see if I've got this right: you mean to tell me that a Triwizard champion - an international Quidditch _star_ to boot - asked you to the Yule Ball? And you turned him _down_?"

Hermione huffed out a breath. "Yes," she said bravely, not ashamed of her answer, no matter what Neville thought of it. "A promise is a promise, Neville. And I truly wanted to go with you."

Neville's face broke into a huge grin. Overwhelmed, the Gryffindor courage all at once roaring through him, he suddenly cupped Hermione's face in his hands, tilted her chin up and deeply kissed her right on the mouth.

Hermione gasped in shock, and stumbled a step back, Neville following her. Just as quickly as the kiss had begun, it ended. Hermione had to open her eyes, not even remembering that they had fluttered closed or why.

Neville suddenly looked stricken, realizing what he had done. And from the way Hermione Granger now gawked at him, speechless for once in her life, he thought that she was angry enough to hex him. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... I should have asked first..."

Filled with some Gryffindor courage of her own, Hermione aggressively seized Neville by his lapel. Her face softened only slightly, but her lips were still fierce as she rammed them against Neville's, kissing him back.

It was her very first kiss. Hermione had imagined it before, what it would be like and with whom it would be. Her most common conclusion had been that either Ron or Harry might do be the one to do it, even if it was a chaste peck between dear friends and didn't mean anything in the near future. She had never, in her wildest dreams, considered that she would lip-lock with Neville Longbottom - the klutz, the sentimental favorite - in a deserted broom cupboard.

Her skin tingled as she felt Neville's one hand fall to her hip, and then inch around. Taking his hand, she guided him encouragingly so that it slid fully around her waist. His other palm - strong and large but with gentle fingers (she had never noticed that before) fell into her hair, as he actually yanked her closer and deepened the kiss with a low groan. Hermione splayed her arm across Neville's back in perfect harmony. Her eyes drooped shut in pleasure. "Hmmmm..."

She could feel Neville's fingers in her hair, deftly and with increasing confidence undoing the pins, so that her hair cascaded down to her shoulders in waves.

All too soon, the kiss was ending. Hermione could feel Neville pulling away, and it frightened her. This would not do at all. So, in a very un-Hermione-like fashion, she tugged Neville back into her embrace, backing them both up against the cupboard wall. She assertively raised her leg to his waist, hooking her thigh around his middle. Her wand flew into her hand where it had been hidden within the folds of her dress; pointing it at the door, she uttered several advanced incantations, sealing them inside where she was confident even the teachers couldn't get to them, likely on patrol for students doing exactly what Hermione and Neville were doing: snogging. And, before she thought to consider the implications, she uttered one more spell around herself - one for contraception.

"Did I ask you to stop kissing me?" Hermione hissed, her breath hot against Neville's face. Startled, Neville silently shook his head No. "Well then, bloody snog me!" And Hermione molded her lips to his and the kiss resumed.

Despite it being certainly the first kiss for them both, Neville and Hermione grew increasingly skilled. Hermione opened her mouth wide to Neville, prying his lips apart with her own and coaxing his tongue into her mouth to play with hers. Neville soon began to plant kisses down Hermione's face and neck, towards her collarbone. Hermione's eyes grew wide, rolling into the back of her head in amazement, her jaw slack. This was a bold, passionate Neville... and she found that she _adored_ it. That it aroused her like crazy, if the dampness in her panties was any indication - the fluids that were quickly moving to stain the inside of her dress and flow down her thighs. Her thighs which she now spread of her own accord, nestling Neville between them.

Neville's hands were dancing along the shoulder frills of her pink dress, trying to work them free. "Diffindo!" Hermione gasped.

Her beautiful dress ripped apart in Neville's hands, the bodice tumbling down past her chest. Hermione let the apples that were her recently-developed breasts fall, and she cradled Neville closer as he gallingly kissed each one, even taking one perky, pink nipple into his mouth.

That did it. Hermione leapt into Neville's arms, folding her legs about his waist, kissing his lips so hard, she was almost trying to get her mouth down his throat. Stumbling about in the small broom cupboard, Neville finally collapsed onto a stack of boxes and Hermione brazenly moved to straddle him. Confidently, she shrugged Neville's jacket off his shoulders.

"This comes off." Her fingers deftly moved on to the buttons of his white shirt, making quick work of them, and she cast that aside, too. Bare-chested before her, Hermione could not help but admire Neville's muscles. He was rapidly losing his baby fat, certainly, and for the first time, Hermione admitted to herself how bloody handsome he was. She kicked herself as to why she had never noticed him in this way before.

All at once, the kissing stopped. "Hermione..." Neville breathed slowly, even though she could see his eyes were black with lust and love. "Don't do this if you feel any pity for me."

Hermione frowned. "It's not pity," and fingernails raked down the length of his chest to emphasize her point. "I want _you_ , Neville." And she meant it.

Neville beamed. Reverently, the couple undressed each other. Hermione let the pink material of her dress pool at her feet, and she stepped out of it to sit astride a naked Neville once more. Slowly, tenderly, kissing him deeply if for no other reason than to help her through the pain (she had read plenty of books on sexual intercourse, and knew that the first time would hurt for a woman), she sank herself onto Neville's engorged manhood. Right down to the hilt.

"I love you," Hermione whispered into his mouth, her voice strangely hoarse, and Neville trembled in her arms. She noticed tears slip onto his cheeks and she lovingly kissed them away as Neville admitted:

"I love you, too, Hermione. I have for a long time."

Hermione began to roll her hips against Neville's, prod him to move about inside her. She bounced up and down on his member, her breasts jiggling with each increase in tempo, her hums and sighs and purrs of contentment soon turning into sexy moans:

"Hmmmmm... Uhmmmmmm... Uhhhhh! OHHHHHHHH! Oh my goodness... Merlin... yes, Neville, yes! Touch me, just like that... There! Right there..."

Neville grew more adept and assured at making love to Hermione, thrusting up into her faster and faster. Hermione's legs wobbled, as she felt a deep warmth building and building inside her, unable to be contained for much longer. For the first time in her life, she was not sure exactly what was supposed to happen. Well, she had an idea, but she did not know what it would feel like. Neville's face buried itself into the valley between her breasts, Hermione's hands cradling his skull to keep him there; throwing her head back, she let out a cry -

"NEVILLE!" She came, orgasmed all over him. With one last, muffled grunt from between her breasts, Hermione now felt a tingling trickle within her core, as Neville also ejaculated.

Wizard and witch sank to the floor, cuddling up in each other's arms, still naked as babies. Kissing his chest tenderly, an exhausted Hermione fell asleep.

* * *

The teachers never found them. When Hermione woke at what she judged to be hours later, she still found herself in the broom cupboard, a naked Neville beside her. She smiled as she watched him too stir from sleep. The Ball had to be long since over; she wondered if Ron and Harry were worried about her, but in the next instant, dismissed that concern.

Before the pair redressed and left their sanctuary, and not until they had had sex in another round, Neville asked:

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Would you be my girlfriend?"

Smiling soothingly, Hermione captured his lips in a gentle kiss: "I'd love to. Yes."


	4. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

From then on, Hermione and Neville entered a romantic relationship. When they first revealed to Harry and Ron that they were dating, Hermione's best friends were shocked, but nevertheless supportive. All the same, both boys gave Neville a speech to treat Hermione right, acting like her big brothers. Viktor Krum was more disappointed at the development, but Hermione didn't care. And he left after the Tournament, anyway.

Neville and Hermione dated throughout their remaining years at Hogwarts, even as the war drums beat and storm clouds grew. It was with great pain that Hermione kissed Neville goodbye at the end of their sixth year, not knowing if she would ever even see him again once she and Harry and Ron disappeared into the wilderness on their Horcrux Hunt.

Thankfully, the pair lovingly reunited with a passionate kiss before what would be the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione was concerned by, but nonetheless proud of, how Neville had lassoed control of the DA and led a brave stand against the Carrows and Death Eaters infiltrating Hogwarts.

After Voldemort was killed and the Second Wizarding War over, Neville and Hermione returned to the castle to make up their seventh year. At graduation, Neville was handpicked by a retiring Professor Sprout to take over as Professor of Herbology, and Hermione was given the pick of any professorship she wanted; she chose Charms. At graduation, by the Black Lake, Neville unexpectedly presented Hermione with a ring - and a second enchanted rose - and asked her to marry him. Hermione happily accepted.

The two professors began their respective tenures the following year. That spring, they held a private wedding ceremony on the Hogwarts grounds, their fellow staff colleagues, Harry, the Weasleys, and Neville's Gran as the only witnesses. With that, the Greatest Witch of Her Age became Mrs. Neville Longbottom.

Hermione fell pregnant soon after the summer honeymoon, and inside the Hogwarts castle, gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. She was named Rose, in honor of the enchanted rose that had first brought her parents together. A son, Neville Jr., followed two years later.

With her teaching job, her beloved husband, and their two babies, Hermione knew she would live happily ever after.


End file.
